What Is Taken Is Not What Is Gone
by EscapingToTheBooks
Summary: Squeal to What You See Is Not What You Get... Things aren't going so well now; Annabeth is in juvie after fessing up to a crime she didn't commit so save Thalia, while Percy is losing his mind trying to do get her out. They both aren't coping without each other. As the title suggests, what is taken is not what is gone. Percabeth.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE – _Two months later…_**

I've been alone before. Countless times. After my parents were killed. After I escaped from Luke with Thalia. After I pushed almost everyone away because they could hurt me.

Before I met Percy.

But I've never been alone like this. It breaks you inside, you know. One horrible, vicious cycle where I'll find something – _someone_ – but then life will screw me over and I'll lose it.

It happened with my family, almost 9 years ago. Mum, dad and Bobby, one of my twin brothers, all died in that house fire. And then Matt, the foster system took him away from me almost the second the ambos cleared us as "okay". I haven't seen him since. Haven't even heard from him. Apparently they don't exchange letters from one sibling to the other in the foster system.

Then it happened with Thalia. I had finally found friends at this one foster home. It was Thalia, me… and Luke. But I was young and naïve and weak, and Luke took advantage of that. Twice. As well as hitting me, for "good measure" as he used to say. It was enough to make me fear him and feel terrified of what might happen if I told anyone – which was exactly what he wanted. When I finally fessed up what had happened to Thalia she wanted to bash his face in. I stopped her then and convinced her to escape the place with me. We were then split a part.

Three weeks later Thalia was in a freak accident. I thought I was going to _really_ lose her then. I wasn't allowed to go see her or send flowers or anything, even though I gave my social worker, Rachel, hell about it. Thalia was in a coma for a long time – months. I didn't get to hear from her or about her until kinda recently.

This was a low point in my life. I admit, I'm not that low at this moment… but I'm a hell of a lot lonelier now than I've ever been. That's saying a lot too.

Percy is the most recent to be taken from me – or really, me taken from him. In a way, he kind of saved me. He knew everything about me. He _wanted _to know everything about me. He was different from the rest and at first I thought that it was because he was so freaking persistent about talking to me and getting me to open up. But then he told me his story and I realised that we weren't so different. He'd had a pretty bad life as well, but he was moving on. He was getting on with his life.

And that's what he helped me do. I told Percy my story. _Everything._ Percy didn't judge or give me those stupid sympathetic looks that everyone gives orphans. Instead he stood by my side and protected me. More than protected me; he made me _feel_ again.

And now I feel a lot – especially for him. I don't know what this emotion is called, but I do know that I think about Percy almost every second of every day. I miss the comfort of his arms and those green, ocean-like eyes. The messy way his hair fell. That stupid grin he got about anything. The crease of worry between his eyebrows that was like an hourly occurrence. His big hand wrapped around my own smaller one. The way his body shook when he laughed, usually at me. The feeling of his lips on mine…

Oh shit I'm daydreaming again.

Percy found Thalia for me. She had changed… but it was for the better. Not as moody and likely to lash out. She was even engaged and _in love_. Young, engaged and in love with a nurse named Will. He wasn't the nurse assigned to look after her at the hospital but he saw her this one time and couldn't stay away. He sat by Thalia every day, all those months and all the therapy, until she was released from hospital. I was supposed to be Thalia's Maid of Honour.

Percy's mum, Sally, the nicest, kindest person I've ever met – and I've met a fuck load of people thanks to the foster homes and all the schools – also got engaged to Paul. He is like a father to Percy, even before the engagement. Sally was pretty messed up from her ex-husband, Gabe, but Paul helped her through. He's nice, caring and stable, and you can see that his world revolves around her; she deserves someone like that.

It all seems so long ago.

Even Percy. That last kiss from him. The way he fought through the guards escorting me out of the court room just so that he could kiss me.

But if he saw me now, he'd be disappointed. I've gone back to the girl I was when I first met him. Except now, I feel empty inside. Empty beside the hurt.

Two months I've been in here; Baldwald's Juvenile Detention Centre for Troubled Girls. Not a very catchy title, I gotta say. My new "home" is cell number 309, a 4 by 5 concrete room, with tall iron bars making up one whole side. It has nothing but a bunk bed with thin mattresses and two blankets. We don't even get the privilege of having a toilet.

My cell mate is a quiet, petite girl by the name of Bianca. I have no idea why she's in here. She doesn't talk very often and says very little when she does. And she stays to herself, clear of everyone. Including me.

I guess maybe she doesn't like the attention I get. Mind you, it is unwanted. But like the guards say: I'm a magnet for trouble. I'm not even exaggerating when I say that since day one in here whenever there has been trouble or a "disagreement" I've been there. Usually not on the sidelines either.

I know that Percy wouldn't want me to be like this. But when life screws me over again this is just the side of me that comes out in order to survive. There's no way people like me get out of here unscathed. Hell most come out with some type of scar; physical or mental.

"Number one-oh-three-three," the guard called out.

I stood and made my way over to the line of girls being organised by more guards. It was visiting day.

Ever since I've been here I've always had a visitor every few days – unless I've been thrown in isolation which has only happened once. It's the same visitor every time.

The guard was done after a few minutes and our little line traipsed on. It's like a maze in here. At first it confuses the fuck outta you, but then I think that's what it's meant to do. We made our way to the massive hall-like room where our visitors would be waiting. They get there before us.

We stopped at the door. The line slowly trickled forward until I was at the front with a massive, mean looking guard in front of me. He held a clipboard (this place was pretty old school).

"Chase. One-oh-three-three," I said with a sigh at the end. I knew this routine too well.

"Seat eighteen," he said in his gruff voice.

I walked past him until I saw the number 18 in big black font at the top of the cubicle. These seats we get to talk to our visitors, well they were designed exactly like you see in the movies. It's a whole rectangular room with these cubicles. There are boards either side for a bit of privacy, although that's kinda hard considering all the guards in the room, mostly on our side. A phone is attached to one of the side boards – one on each side. This is how we talk to people of the "outside" now. Like a phone call without the dialling.

I sit down and pick up the phone, looking through the thick, clear plastic between us.

"You're getting predictable," I state, emotionless.

"You should think of it as dependable," Rachel replies. "How are you, Annabeth?"

I put my elbow on the desk and rest my head on my hand. "You ask the same question every time. You get the same answer every time. I think you should think of _that_ as dependable."

She signs and her frizzy red hair seems to deflate a little more than usual. "Okay then, have you been in anymore fights?"

I just shrugged. She glares at me through the plastic but I still outwardly look bored. I've had ten year olds with a more piercing glare than hers. Rachel's had a bit more frustration laced into it though.

"Annabeth, you know they can reduce your time in here if you behave. What are you _doing_, Annabeth?"

"How is everyone, Rachel?" Now I lift my head, totally ignoring her question. "How is Percy? And Thalia?"

Rachel sighs, studying me for a few seconds. I begin to glare at her, alerting her to my building impatience. She leans back a little to get more comfortable while tossing her head back a bit to shake her hair out of her face.

"Thalia blames herself still," Rachel admits. I knew that this would be the case but it still sucks to hear it actually confirmed.

"And Percy?"

Rachel chews her lip before going on. "He's worried about you, Annabeth. He looks awful. He doesn't sleep and you can tell. He's dropped in weight. He's going literally crazy without you."

My heart contracts painfully. I bury my face in my hands, breathing hard. _Don't cry. Don't do it. Don't show them your weakness._

Finally, when I think I've gotten myself back under control, I look back up at Rachel. Now the worry she was feeling for me is evident in her eyes. I hadn't really noticed it before.

"You still tell him about me, don't you? Even though I've asked you not to."

She doesn't even look guilty. "Yes. Annabeth, you haven't seen him. The fact that you are here and he is helpless – it's killing him. I don't know what relationship you two have, but can't you see it's killing you both when you get yourself into fights? When you get hurt? When I told him about your black eye the other week he just sat down and put his head in his hands, like you just did but for a lot longer."

"Then stop being the bearer of bad news. You see what it does to him, so why do you keep telling him?" my anger started to seep into my words. Deep down I really know that it's not Rachel's fault and that Percy would get the information out of her either way. But I have to snap at someone.

"You know he wants to know and he'll find out somehow," her words only confirm my thoughts. "He wants to see you-"

"No," I glare. This wasn't the first time we'd had this conversation.

"But Annabeth-"

"_No_, Rachel." I don't want him to see me like this. I don't want him to see me in this uniform or see the bruises that I have from the fights. I don't want him to see the old me again.

"What about Thalia? You know that I won't be able to stop her for too much longer," Rachel says, her voice a little wearier now.

I rub my eyes. "I know," a sigh. "But try. I don't know how, but she'll tear herself a part if she turns up on one of my bad days."

"So you're saying there will be more fights?" she quickly caught on.

"Did you think there would be less?"

"Actually, yes. I saw the different you that Percy encouraged to come out. But now you're the old you who used to give me a lot of headaches and stress," she said honestly, with a hint of a smile creeping at the side.

"Which is exactly why you can't let Percy and Thalia see me."

Giving her a stern look I wait for the argument she's sure to put up. Rachel opens her mouth but the buzzer on top of my cubicle goes off. As the guard steps up behind me I sigh. With a tearful look from Rachel, and the blank look I shot back, I got up and moved back to the exit of the hall.

The kitchens' was where I was lead. I say "kitchens" because there is more than one. There has to be in order to feed three hundred and something girls.

Internally I groaned when I spotted the all-too-familiar gang of girls in the corner. They weren't your typical high school clique; they were a bit more blood thirsty than that. Although they were led by a Queen Bee: Drew.

Drew was definitely _not_ like a cheerleader or whatever you would expect a high-and-mighty teenage bitch to look like. Instead, she was bigger, butch, had a mop of dark hair with freckles scattered across her nose. There were scars all over her, including a rather large one that ran down behind her ear. The girl was confident and cocky and downright crazy.

My job was to take the tomatoes off the vines. Not an exciting job but one that will leave you with blisters at the end of the night. _Keep the good ones, chuck the bad ones._

It took forty-five minutes until I heard the drone of Drew's voice behind me. Ignoring her like I usually do at the start of our confrontations, I continued to pluck off tomatoes._ Keep the good ones, chuck the bad ones._ I was hoping that luck might be on my side tonight and she might have gotten assigned to somewhere else. Or at least another kitchen.

"Was that your sister talking to you today?" There was no response from me; this was only the beginning of her spiel. Her snotty voice went on. "Or was it your mum, hey Barbie? Was your mummy a teen slut?"

Squeezing my eyes shut tight and staying turned away from her, I tried to block out the sound of laughter from Drew's groupies.

_Deep breaths, Annabeth. Just keep them occupied until one of the guards' notices. Maybe we can avoid this fight._

"Your mum liked to sleep around, didn't she Barbie? Could she even remember which one was your father?" this brought about more laughing. My hands curled into fists.

Or maybe this fight was inevitable.

I spun around to them, putting on an innocent smile. "Is that so? Are you sure you aren't getting our mums confused there, Drew?"

She glowered at me, caught out.

"You think you are so much different than us, don't you Barbie? You think that you are better," she took a step closer and I saw the anger behind her eyes. "But there's a hierarchy here. We've been lenient to you since you arrived-" _oh now that was compete bullshit_ "- but it's time you stepped back into your place. You're the bottom of the food chain, bitch."

"Then we have reached an impasse," I took a step towards her and with a tug at the corners of my mouth said, "because I don't like the bottom."

Drew's eyes narrowed. Her body shifted and I knew what was going to happen before it actually did. The fist came at me from my left. Ducking I hit out, connecting with her stomach which had her doubling over, winded. One of her friends grabbed me. As I went to hit her away, another of the girls grabbed that arm. The two of them held me tight between them.

I struggled and scratched and kicked, landing a few blows. Almost free of their grasp something in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Drew had recovered and stood back up. She came directly in front of me and I made an executive decision to stop the struggle for freedom. Instead I looked right at her and smiled as sweetly as I could.

It worked and Drew blew her fuse.

The next punch caught me in the jaw.

* * *

**THERE IS MORE THEN JUST THE JUVIE THING TO THIS STORY.**

**Hi, I'm Cassie, for all you new readers, and to my old ones, Sorry I took so long to upload and thank you for reading this.**

**This story is a carry-on from What You See Is Not What You Get. Still has Percabeth! Annabeth doesn't stay in juvie for too long really! That would make it boring otherwise :)**

**All I'll say is that I listened to what my lovely readers said they wanted to see I their reviews! There will be people coming and some going. If you stick around you'll find out :)**

**Thank you all for being patient and I wish I could tell you that I will update sooner but realistically, I probably won't...**

**Thanks for reading the first chapter guys! You're all amazing!**

**- Cassie.**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO – ****_My New Best Friend…Yay…_**

"How's the jaw today, Annabeth?"

This was a bit out of the ordinary. Where I was now, well, I didn't think I'd be here. At least, not so soon. Somewhere in my future here I expected it, but not quite so soon.

I was sitting in a comfy, padded arm chair that smelt like leather. This in itself was amazing because there was nothing in this place that was as comfortable as this. Or that smelt like leather. Everything just smells of bleach, metal, and a shit-load of other chemicals that I wouldn't have a hope of naming. There was an expensive, chunky oak desk between me and the woman with the severely tight bun.

In other words, I was sitting in the warden's office across from the warden herself.

I shrug, trying to be avoidant but not too rude. I mean, this woman can add an extra sentence onto mine if she really wants – although that would probably mean I'd be sent over to the women's jail once I turn 18. And even though I can't actually vision myself out of here, I still don't really want to add gasoline to the fire.

"Fine, ma'am," I reply, but my eyes wouldn't stop flittering around the room and my hand s would just not quit fidgeting.

My jaw was actually a bit sore still due to the lovely blue bruise blossoming on it.

She stays quiet as she studies me. I start to sweat under her gaze before she finally sighs and stands up. She comes around to sit on the front her desk – closer to me.

"I read your file, Annabeth," she begins, looking right at me. I want to look away but that would make me look subordinate. "I know that you used to get into a lot of fights before. You would cause a lot of trouble with everyone and get yourself kicked out of foster houses and schools. But I also know that before you were sent here you managed to stay in one place for longer than your usual. There were some hiccups; however they seemed to stop after a little while. Now your name appears on my desk almost every day. This tells me something about you, Annabeth."

"That I haven't adjusted to prison life? Because no offense but I don't see how anyone can actually come to liking these things," I say while tugging on the collar of my ugly uniform. I was trying to make light of the situation even though my insides were squirming with anxiety.

Not for the first time, I wish to hell and heaven that Percy was with me.

The warden chuckles. "I've heard you can be quite the…comedian. But no, Annabeth, I don't mean that. I mean, you still have hope. You still have the _will_ to live."

I frowned at her. "Well I'm breathing aren't I? I haven't gone and necked myself from the top of my cell so I'm still willing to live, is that what you're saying? Because I don't know how long you've been in Fairy Land for. But there are two types of girls in this place: the ones who have a will to _survive,_ and the ones who have given up dreaming about dancing on hills of daisies while singing happy songs about love and peace."

"Actually it's been a long time since I've been to Fairy Land, and I can tell you with certainty that most girls here are the former of your colourful descriptions. There isn't many who are here by choice; most of the girls are just biding their time until their sentence ends."

She got up again; walked to the other side of her table and opened a folder that I would bet anything had my name on. Looks like she's checked up on my background. _Oh great._

"In the first few weeks of your stay in your latest foster home there were two fights at the school that you attended. Both of them you were reported being in. At first you skipped days and days of school or showed up for a class and then left. Then suddenly you attended school and class almost every day. Your grades improved and you had friends. Annabeth, what I'm saying is; you were happy. _You_ _became happy again._"

I sat silent, unable to think up a lie to contradict the truth… Also a bit afraid of lying to the warden… Or maybe afraid of lying to myself. Because I guess I was happy. No, I _know_ I was happy. Percy made me happy.

But Percy's not here now. I have to let him go otherwise I'll end up ruining his life as well.

With a heavy sigh she shut the folder, making me jump and come back to the present instead of thinking about Percy. She came around to me again.

Maybe she was moving around so much because she needed to pee… or was annoyed that she had to have a conversation that she knew wouldn't do anything with a delinquent that wasn't going to change her attitude anytime soon.

"After what you've been through," she went on, looking me dead in the eye, "if you find happiness again, Annabeth, it's a big deal. One that you can't let yourself throw away."

As soon as I heard the persuasion in his voice I knew where this was going.

My frown deepened as I leaned back in the chair and crossed my arms over my chest. "Oh yeah, and how the hell do I stay 'happy' when I'm in a fucking correctional institution? I now live in a metal fucking cube and eat God-knows-what's in that crap that's served in the cafeteria. I never had a big wardrobe but now it's the same fugly outfit every day. I've lost everything, in case you miss-read my file, so forgive me if I don't join in the conga line every Friday night and hold hand singing kumbi-i around the – "

"The person who made you happy is still out there," she cut in. "They're waiting for you, Annabeth, but you have to stay positive –"

"Oh yeah?" I leapt up, glaring at the lady in front of me. "And where the fuck has positivity gotten me?"

Before she could say anything else I whip around and stomp to the door. Not thinking things through I slam it open. The guard outside snaps to attention and upon seeing that I'm the one who did it – and the furious expression on my face – he throws me against the wall. Grabbing my wrist he pulls it behind me in order to restrain me. I groan when he inches my arm up further and pain strikes my muscles.

"Oh come on!" I growl angrily as the guard man-handles me down the hall.

Since I didn't punch the guard, nor the warden, I knew that I wasn't heading for isolation again. Instead the guard drags me back to my cells. He throws me inside so fast I don't see it coming until my head smashes against the cold, hard floor.

Vaguely I hear the cells door slide back into place. But foremost my head is pounding like a giant is stomping around in it.

Screwing my eyes shut tight I slowly got myself into a sitting position. The wall was at my back, propping me up.

I'd never met a guard so brutal here. Maybe that was because he guards the door to the warden's office. Maybe that fucker's brutality is the reason he's the one there.

With all these thoughts running rings in my head I gently rested my head back against the wall and let my eyes fall closed.

"Annabeth?" someone asked in a soft voice. They poked my arm. "Annabeth?"

"Depends whose asking," I mumble, squeezing my eyes together before opening them.

The single light in the cell seemed to burn me. Groaning I turn my head away from it, blinking rapidly.

"God I thought you were dead," Bianca said. Without moving my head I looked at her and saw that she sat in front of me, wiping her eyes as if she was tired…or trying to get rid of tears.

"And here I was thinking that you didn't care about little old me," I mutter, smirking slightly.

"Most people just say thanks," she retorted, moving backwards until she leant against the bottom bunk.

"Thanks," after a few seconds of silence I decided to be the Good Samaritan. I could tell by the shocked look on her face that she hadn't really been expecting a "thank you". With a smile to my own joke I struggled into a comfier position where I was able to face Bianca and not a lot of light.

If I reached up and touched my forehead I knew I'd find a lovely-sized knot.

"Yeah, well," she said, attempting to shrug off the moment. "I guess you owe me an explanation for finding you half-dead then."

I let out a short humourless laugh. "No, actually, I don't."

"What? Hey! That's-"

"Keep your voice down, Jesus," I uttered as my head flared like a neon light was trapped inside and about to explode.

"Oh, sorry," due to my eyes being closed I couldn't see her face but I knew that she had enough audacity to be sorry for yelling. "But don't you think that I deserve to know?"

"No, actually," I replied shortly, eyes still shut. She stayed silent which made me realised how upset she was that I wouldn't confide in her. With a sigh of exasperation I told her, "I was pissed off, a guard saw, threw me in here and now I have this growth on my head and an awful headache. In fact, awful doesn't even half cover it."

"I didn't think that they were able to hurt us," she thought allowed.

I opened my eyes and waited until her eyes meet mine. "They can do whatever they want. No one's going to believe us over them. Luckily it seems that most of the guards aren't as excessively forceful."

"And I was so sure that I would be safe until I get out if I stay clear of you and Drew," now it was Bianca who gave the humourless laugh. It faded into a sob pretty quick though.

"Well, if it cheers you up, you're doing a pretty good job so far, kid."

She stopped crying instantly and looked at me. I just stared back, showing her that I actually meant what I had said. Finally, when I thought she was going to retreat to her quiet-self and do what she intended by staying away from me, she smiled. A real genuine smile.

The type that aren't usually found in a place like this. Unless you're Drew and get off on slugging people unconscious.

"Friends?" she suddenly asked.

My head snapped up so fast that it hit the wall before the pounding amplified again.

"Um," I had the bridge of my nose between my forefinger and thumb, although it didn't help much. It actually didn't help at all. "Sure."

She squealed happily and I almost passed out.

"I haven't had a friend in forever!"

"And I haven't puked for a while but I think my streak's about to end."

* * *

**Sorry it took so long for me to update, guys. I've been having laptop troubles and there is a hella lot of assignments I've been procrastinating about (or in my maths assignment case, forgetting).**

**We also have been getting our OP predictions back and QSC practise test results back. All I know is that I'm in the top 25 people predicted in my school, however I am yet to have an interview with the Vice Principal about my results. Although I did find out I really, really do suck at maths. I have a 16.36 average where as in literacy it's a 70.69 and a 90.00 in visual literacy.**

**So enjoy and I'll try update a little quicker.**

**Cassie.**


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE – ****_The Beginning…_**

"I can't even taste the potatoes in this," Bianca scooped up another mouthful of the mush they feed us. "And I know that they put potatoes into it because I've had to peal _hundreds _of them in the kitchens."

I never realized just how much Bianca talks. Maybe that's because she never really talked to me before. Or at all really. But since we became, ah, friends, well she hasn't shut up. _Literally. _The last few days I've fallen asleep to the sound of her droning on.

Instead of replying, I sat pushing the horrible crap around the plate while letting Bianca carry on.

"And tomatoes. I know they're supposed to be in here somewhere too. I saw a girl chopping up celery too and that usually has a strong taste if you chomp on it but I haven't found that in here yet. I wonder if they use the same ingredients for every meal, like do we always eat…"

About here is when I usually zone out.

See, I think that Bianca has the gene that rants a lot. Sometimes it can be a gift, like when I need to get my mind of things – Percy – she's great to listen to. Other times, like now, I preferred it better when she wasn't my, er, friend.

"How's your head feeling?" she suddenly asked.

I blinked a few times before answering with a shrug. Sometimes it takes a while for the brain to connect that it has to reply… Actually it takes a while for it to come back on line after being in 'Sleep' mode for so long.

"I still think we should have taken you to the infirmary. Like, you could have gotten a concussion or something. Or an aneurism."

Another positive was also that she gave a rats ass about me. Ironically, it also annoyed the hell outta me sometimes.

"What and ruin my 'bad girl' reputation?" with a raised eyebrow that made Bianca hesitate. I could see she had no idea if I was serious or not.

"Well, um…" it was actually a little funny seeing her trying to rack her brains for another subject. I mean, we had heaps to talk about, but in the same way we kinda had nothing. "Are you going to eat that?" she finally asks.

Shoving the uneaten mush on my plate to her I reply, "All yours, kid."

"Why do you call me kid?" Bianca asked around a mouthful of stuff. "I'm fifteen you know. Not a kid anymore."

I smirked at her. "Haven't you heard, fifteen's the new twelve."

"What? No, it's not, that can't be right because-"

A door suddenly slammed loudly. Bianca jumped but I couldn't say I wasn't expecting it. We all knew what that door meant.

"Alright, when your numbers called line up!" the guard instructed, as they do every time this happens. He rattled off numbers and I was starting to fall asleep, resting my elbow on the table and leaning my head on my hand. "One-oh-three-three…"

Standing with a sigh I went and stood in line.

As per usual once all the names were called we trudged around for a bit until we got to the visiting room. Soon I was at the front.

The guard holding the clipboard this time wasn't one I'd seen doing the job before. No, it was the guy who man-handled me to my cell.

Giving him my best death glare I told him, "Chase, one-oh-three-three."

He glared back at me for a second before glancing at his clipboard quickly. "Twenty-three. And no funny business or I'll throw you out myself."

"I'm sure you'd love to do that," I muttered under my breath as I walked passed him. He huffed so I had a feeling he'd heard. Guess I was right since he didn't correct me or throw me out.

_Wonderful, I've already got my name on a guards 'Hate' list. Brilliant work, Chase._

Number 23 appeared before me. I sat down and looked up at Ra- _Thalia._

We sat there, staring at each other for seconds, maybe minutes. Her gaze searched my eyes and skimmed my face, noticing every bruise and lump on it. I could see each one of them register in her eyes as they grew sadder. This was the exact reason why I didn't want her or Percy here. The guilt was etched deep in the lines of her face.

It stabbed at my heart seeing her so upset over me.

Finally she reached over and unhooked the phone. It took me a few more seconds to comply.

"Annabeth? Jesus, are you okay?" I heard before the phone had even touched my ear.

With a heavy sigh I glared over at her. "What are you doing here, Thalia?"

"What do you mean 'what am I doing here'?" she snapped, getting angry. "For the last two fucking months I've had your little pet, Rachel, stopping me _every time I've tried to see you_. How could you do that, Annabeth? How could you shut me out after everything that's happened and especially considering that I'm the one-"

"Because I didn't want you to see me like this!" I hissed back, cutting her off before anyone could hear her confess, although I doubt anyone was listening. "I knew you'd act like this. You're an open book and all I see is your guilt, Thalia. This trip here is pointless! You're only hurting yourself!"

"Looks like I'm not the only one," she shot back, indicating the knot on my head with her glare. "I knew it! Rachel said that you were having trouble and instantly I knew that you were getting into fights again. _Annabeth, why the fuck would you do that?_"

"Because things are different in here to out there! It's like being back in those shitty foster homes where the bigger kids would come over and bully you for no God-damn reason! I'm done with being the victim," I growled at her.

"Have you even seen that lump on your forehead?" she continued. "What else can't I see, huh? Broken bones? Cuts? Don't you get what you do when you do this to yourself?"

"A reputation."

"_Pain_. Dammit, Annabeth, you feel pain and I feel pain and Percy feels pain!"

The lump in my throat rises and grows to the point where I can barely swallow. Instead I break Thalia's eye contact and look away. Tears of anger and hurt well in my eyes. Quickly I wipe them away.

"He quit swimming, you know."

My head snapped back to her. "What, no."

Thalia nodded slowly. "He said he didn't have time for distractions."

My heart fell. "Oh, school, right. Of course. Yeah , no he wanted to do really well being his last year and all," I try to put enthusiasm into my voice but it comes out shaky.

"Not school, Annabeth. _You."_

"Me?" and now I was confused.

"He's looking for ways to get you out of here," she told me. a slight smile played on her lips. "And ways to get himself in here. He's going out of his mind not being able to see you. Annabeth," she looked me dead in the eyes, serious, "he saved you, and you know it. But what you don't see is that it went both ways. _You _saved _him_ too."

"I miss him."

The words slipped out and before I knew it I was crying. The first time I'd cried outside of my cell. The first time I'd cried openly.

Thalia gave me a warm smile, tears sliding down her own cheeks. She lifted her hand and placed it on the plastic between us. I put my hand against it as well. Only inch thick plastic separated our hands.

"I know," she said into the phone softly. "And he misses you too."

"I miss you guys so much," I blubber.

"I know," she said again as more tears rolled down her face.

Neither of us moves, only occasionally blinking as the tears slowly dried up.

_BRIIIIIIINNNGG. _

Both of us jump, not expecting it. Looking up I confirm what I wished wasn't happening. It was my buzzer which means my times up.

The guard behind me shifted. Quickly I looked back at Thalia.

"Don't let him quit swimming, please. He loves it. He shouldn't have to lose something else because of me. I love you," I quickly say then hang up the phone as Thalia opens her mouth to reply. I catch sight of the fresh tears rolling down her cheeks and even though my heart screams to go back to her, I turn my back and walk away.

"Take a seat, Annabeth," the counsellor offered, taking a seat across the table herself.

"I think I'll stand," was my response as I stopped behind the empty chair. There was no way I was gonna make the same mistake as I did with the freaking warden. I glare across at the counsellor – if my hands weren't hand-cuffed I would have crossed them.

This counsellor looked to be in her mid-twenties which started to get me wondering why the hell she was here of all places and not working in a school or something. It'd probably be a far better job than the one in here.

She wore no make-up, making a tinge a jealously hit me considering that her beauty was all natural. Her hair was up in a fancy hair do that had been perfected over years no doubt. Her expression was warm – for now.

"Annabeth, I'm not going to hurt you," she assured me.

I snorted. "Of course _you_ won't, but there's nothing to say that you won't get the big bag of bones outside the door to."

Her brow crinkled into a frown. "No, I won't. Where on earth did you get that idea from?" but as I stood there silent and defiant, I knew the light bulb went off as her gaze levelled on my forehead. She gave a slight gasp and a visible flinch that made me narrow my eyes at her. "They're not supposed to hurt you."

"Yeah, then looks like someone forgot to put it in the weekly notices."

"When did this happen?"

"When did it become your problem?"

"When you walked through that door. Now when did this happen?"

"And why should I tell you?"

"Because I want to help you."

"You can't help."

"I can, Annabeth. I know a lot more about you then you realise. I know a lot more about your situation and the law then you realise."

"You just want to get in my head and re-educate me on the warden's orders because I suppose I have 'anger' issues or something. Am I right?"

"Not even close. The warden assigned me to you because she wanted to stop the fights. But that's not want my full intention is."

"Oh, yeah, then what's your agenda?"

"To get you out of here," she states, locking onto my eyes with her dark brown ones.

Laughing at such a statement I just shake my head at her. As if she's for real!

"I'm serious, Annabeth. If we work together on this, I think we can get you out. Everybody who reaches 18 in here gets a re-trial, and even though you've got around 9 months left on your sentence, I think we might be able to get you out before."

I didn't look at her; instead I chewed my lip and looked out the window of this second-story office. I could see the grounds below with girls sitting in groups or walking around the perimeter, desperately wishing they were on the other side of the fence.

I'm a fool for even contemplating this – I should just sit tight and wait out this sentence. If I take a short cut then they might figure out that I'm covering up for Thalia. That wouldn't do anyone any good.

But outside… Percy, he sounds so… broken. And it's all my fault. I need to fix it; I need to help him get back to living. I can't let him fall back to the way he was with his fucker of an ex-stepdad, Gabe. Even though I didn't know him back then, anyone with half a brain cell could work out that it was _pain_ and _loss_ and _guilt_ that clouded his thoughts and voice when he remembered that time.

"I'm one of those girls, you know. The ones that walk around that fence, trying to pretend that I'm walking along a footpath and passing houses," it slips out of my mouth, softer and laced with a lot more emotion then I intended. My desperation was starting to show.

"Trust me, Annabeth, I understand," she replies in an equally soft tone.

"Do you? Really?" I ask sceptically, turning to look at her. "How am I supposed to trust you?"

She smiles slightly. "Because I was like you. I got thrown in here for stealing cars and then selling them to really bad people. Not really a big thing, I guess, and there are plenty of other girls who jacked off cars too. But I didn't quite believe it was real, you know? At least until I was thrown in a place exactly like this one. There was a whole new hierarchy that didn't take me long to figure out. I was lucky not to get into too many fights. I had to wait twenty-six months until I got out."

"Twenty-six months? That's over two years. How old were you?" I couldn't seem to help moving around to sit down in the chair I'd been trying to avoid. The story was too tempting though.

"I was thrown in just before my sixteenth birthday, and got out the day I turned eighteen. A few years back there was no re-trialling so I walked free. Because I had come of age, my record was wiped too, so I could start brand new," she continued.

"And yet you ended up back in the hole you escaped from," I mutter, again aggravated that the handcuffs didn't allow me to cross my arms – again. Settling for a different approach, I raise an eyebrow instead.

"Ha!" she exclaims with a grin. "Guess I can't keep out of trouble," she says with a wink. "No, I went to college first and got myself a degree in phycology. _Then_ I ended up here."

"Why?"

Now she just kept the smile on her face. "Because when I was in St Helena's Troubled Youth Facility, I wished like hell that I had someone on my side that would fight for me. Try to help me get out. I didn't even have a friend to talk to. So I guess I just didn't want history repeating itself. No one else was going to be there for girls like us, which meant that it was up to me to do something about that. _Be the change you want to see in the world_, Ghandi once said and I guess he was right."

Not knowing quiet what to say, I kept my mouth shut and studied her. She wasn't lying, that much I was – unfortunately – sure about. But still…the nagging question…

"How would you help me out of here?"

"I'll see you at our next session tomorrow, then we'll discuss it."

A bit peeved off, I stood and went to the door. This time I didn't act irrationally or angry; I calmly opened the door and stood there.

"Annabeth!" the counsellor called out just before I stepped over the threshold. I looked back over my shoulder. "You can call me Reyna."

* * *

**Sorry this took forever and a day to post! I'm still writing, don't worry, but I've been so focussed on school and all that it's just taken a while to update. **

**Again, sorry. Good news though, the holidays are coming up so I'll hopefully be able to write a lot more... hopefully...**

**Thursday I turn 17 so until the 9th of July (when my driving test is booked) I have the time to learn how to drive a manual. I'm not a inexperienced driver, I've already got up my 100 hours, except I've driven all that time in a manual. It's difficult to suddenly change how I drive mere weeks before the test. Some think I'm crazy - I'm one of them.**

**Anyway I hope all is well with you. Enjoy the chapter... there'll be good surprises in the next few and you'll find out more about this Bianca. **

**Cassie. **


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR – ****_Why me?_**

"Wow, I didn't even know we had a counsellor," was all Bianca said.

Ever since we'd gotten into our oh-so-amazing 'home' she'd grilled me about where the guards had unexpectedly taken me while we were half-way through our laundry duty. Unlike last time she'd tried to get information out of me, I gave it up without a fuss.

"Yeah, she said her name's Reyna," I told her grimly.

"You don't seem happy about this," she pointed out, looking at me intently.

I sighed and rested my head back against the hard, cold wall. "I'm not really sure what to think."

"Well this is brilliant, Annabeth!" she exclaims. My response was to look at her and raise an eyebrow. "Oh come on, don't you see, this could be your ticket to freedom! She said she could help, right, so why not just give her a chance?"

Biting my gum, I stay quiet. _Why don't I give her a chance?_

"Look," Bianca goes on, more sombre this time, "when you first got here – hell you still do it – you cry yourself to sleep. Every night. And I know you try to hide it, but you forget that I'm not deaf and I'm not stupid. There's something out there, Annabeth, which you can't give up on getting to. _Someone_. And this could just be the key to doing it."

Still, I didn't trust myself with words.

"Percy."

"What?" I snap to attention and glare at her. My fists clenched at my side. "How do you know that name?"

Before a few days ago, she would have flinched and shrunk away from me like I was fucking King Kong about to attack. Now she actually _waves me off with a smile_.

"You have nightmares. Most of which you tend to cry out for someone called Percy."

Looking down slightly embarrassed, my hands become limp at my side once more. "Oh," was all that came out, so quiet that I wasn't even sure it was heard.

"Annabeth, look at me," but I didn't want her to see the tears welling in my eyes, so I stayed staring at the concrete. Bianca sighed, "Look, I get being a stubborn mule is just your personality but how can you not take this opportunity? To be free? To be safe?" she was talking about from the guards and Drew, I knew it. "To be back in Percy's arms?"

Squeezing my eyes shut tight until the tears went away I finally looked up at her.

"Because I can't. No shortcuts."

She narrowed her eyes at me, scrutinizing my reaction. I held her gaze, refusing to look away or give her evidence that I was lying. In the end, she was the one to break first by just shaking her head; in confusion or frustration or just because she had given up I don't know.

"Whatever," she said. "But even though I don't know the kid, I bet Percy would be screaming at you not to screw this chance up."

"Why me?"

Reyna looked at me intently from the other side of the desk. Finally she sighed, resting her elbows on the table and leaning forward.

"Why not you?" she shot back, earning her my best glare. This made her sigh again. "Look, Annabeth, part of the reason why it's you here and not someone else _is_ because of the fights."

"Yeah, but Drew has been here longer. She's had more fights than any other girl here. Why not her?"

"Because some people don't want to change, Annabeth. You know what I mean," she said in all seriousness. "Unfortunately there are the people who will walk out of jail or a place like this and be smug about it. That's Drew. She won't change because she likes this life she's living."

"You're wrong," the words tumbled out and although I regretted them, my mouth kept on moving. "She does what to change, to be different. She just doesn't have anyone beside her to help."

A small smile tugged at her lips, making me glare harder.

"You care, Annabeth, and that's the difference between you and Drew. And you have people beside you."

"What about Bianca?"

She looks at me for a long time, silently thinking something over. Something that she doesn't know if she should tell me…

"What?" I break first, not liking the fact that I'm in the dark about something.

"Annabeth," she looked at me intently, "how well do you know Bianca? Has she told you the reason she's in here?"

This had me frowning. No, Bianca hadn't told me a single thing. Really we had both kept away from that topic, but surely it couldn't be anything too big or bad. I mean, look at her! She's fragile and vulnerable and not someone that would hurt a fly.

So then what the hell did she do?

"You should ask her," Reyna continued. "I'll book another appointment with you tomorrow. We'll talk about it then."

Without even a protest I stood silently and walked out of the room. The guard fell into step beside me but in a sort of menacing way that should have intimidated me. If I were anyone else, that is. And if I weren't so caught up in my confusion.

I ended up in the kitchen again, washing up dishes (apparently they don't believe in dishwashers here either). But Bianca wasn't here and questions were all that I thought about.

Funnily enough, everyone seemed to avoid me (note the sarcasm).

I kept up the bad-girl act by glaring at any girl who dared to look me in the eye. Of course there wasn't many but I made sure to show those who did that they should think twice about doing so again. Drew wasn't on the same duty as me for once, but some of her followers were, yet they even kept their distance.

Finally at the end of the day, when I was back in my cell, I was able to confront Bianca.

"You never told me why you're in here, Bianca," my voice was hard and I knew that I had an unreadable face on. I was sitting on my bottom bunk, waiting for this moment.

Bianca became nervous as soon as she heard me and saw my expression. She squirmed, wringing her hands in her lap as she tentatively slid down the wall opposite me.

"Ah, what brought this on?" she tried to make this whole thing light, to avoid the question. However her face fell when she saw that I wasn't going to be easy to push around. She should know that by now.

She sighed, going and sitting across from me on the concrete; her back rested on the wall. Her knees draw up and her thin arms wrapped around them. Bianca looked like the textbook definition of "vulnerable".

Which brought back the question…

"What did you do to be thrown in here?"

She ran a hand through her hair, looking away. "I was hoping not to have to tell anyone…" she said in a small voice, casting a timid glance at me. I said nothing though so she went on. "Look, you've gotta know that he was bad, okay? The worst kind of bad you can imagine. He would beat people and choke people and break bones and probably did kill people… Just… Just know that he was a bad guy."

"Who was he?"

I kept my voice measured; emotionless.

Her eyes met mine. They held no sympathy, only undeniable loathing. It sent a shiver down my spine seeing this side of her. "My father."

"What did you do?" my voice had a demanding edge to it.

"I killed him."

All I could do was stare at her. I knew that my face was a mask however underneath shocked didn't even half cover it.

Her _father?_ _She killed her father?_ How the Hell could that possibly have happened? This is Bianca, not Drew, right?

What the fuck was wrong with the world?!

"He was a part of this gang. A drug addict and sleaze bag and a criminal. Mum and I tried to stay away from him; we moved so many times I lost count. But in the end he still found us," she sniffed as the tears trailed down her cheeks. "He got to mum. All I remember is coming home to the police at our apartment. They told me that she'd been found, beaten and bloody, outside the front door. She'd been rushed to hospital, but it was too late," she blubbered, sobbing now. "He was mum's biggest mistake, and even though I knew she loved me, I knew that she wished she'd never met him. And I don't blame her."

I stayed quiet, letting her continue on her own terms. Something told me that she needed this; to tell someone because it was still all bottled up inside her. Part of me wanted to hug her or comfort her, like Percy did for me. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead I sat there, like an indifferent bitch instead of a friend, staring at my hands while my Bianca cried her heart out in front of me.

Bianca wiped her eyes. "When I heard that my mum had died, I just got so angry. I saw red, literally, and all I wanted to do was get revenge. My mum deserved more and she certainly shouldn't have died so soon… So I found my father. I… I didn't even know what I was going to do, but I saw him and then I saw the gun that was holstered on this other guy's waist and I didn't even think, I just grabbed the gun, pointed and shot… It hit him under the heart, but pierced his lung. It filled up too quickly with blood for anyone to save him."

"But… the safety cap," was what came out of my mouth when I opened it. As soon as I said it I wanted to hit myself for being such a fucktard when Bianca was obviously hurting.

She chuckled a little through her tears, surprising me and causing me to frown.

With a sniff she said, "Yeah, I know, that's what I thought too when I was sitting in the police car. Turns out that the gun belonged to one of my father's gang buddies. Apparently they never have the safety on just in case they have some stare-down or shootout or whatever."

"Do you feel guilty for killing him?"

Again she looked me in the eye. "No," she stated.

I let the corners of my mouth twitch up slightly. "Good, because he was a jack fuck that no one on this earth is going to miss. You did everyone a favour."

She looked up at me and smiled through the tears.

"Thanks."

"For what? Making you dredge up the past so your arrogant cellmate can quell her curiosity?" honestly, I did feel like shit for making her tell me. It wasn't what a friend should do.

Wiping away the tears she still kept smiling, even with a slight chuckle.

"You listened, Annabeth, and you didn't judge. I… I murdered someone and yet you sit in front of me like I'm normal. SO when I say thanks, I really mean it."

Maybe it was her words or maybe it was just my time of the month or something, but my eyes became a little wet. I got up and crossed over to her, embracing her in a hug.

Bianca was as shocked as I was, although she got over it quick enough to return the gesture.

* * *

**Thank you for the birthday wishes!**

**I've got my driving test in a week exactly and I'm starting to freak out! What if I panic too much and they're like "Get out of my car" before we even begin? And it's in a manual! A MANUAL! Technically I've only done 4 hours (!) in a manual and now I'm going for my licence for one meaning that I have to be ****_competent_**** in driving it and with hill starts and reverse parallel parking and u-turns (and there are like five of them or something) and I have to master them all because the tester could tell me to do any!**

**Sorry about the rant...**

**Okay so the story; you'll ****_hear_**** from Percy soon, like as in the next chapter. There's emphasis on "****_hear"_**** for a reason by the way, so don't get too excited. I know you guys want to see more of him and Percabeth but I really don't won't to rush it. **

**Thanks everyone and happy readings!**

**BTW: If you live in Australia and like Pretty Little Liars the Fourth season comes out on DVD on Wednesday 9th (same day as the driving test). **


End file.
